Nothing and Everything
by Kirabaros
Summary: Sam coughed up a bit a blood but it was nothing. He's fine or so he thinks he is as he has his thoughts on more important matters like helping a certain dhampir who was not all she seemed when she came back from Purgatory.


**Nothing and Everything**

It was just a little bit of blood. It was no big deal. More likely it came from a cut from the inside his mouth. After all they just had a major tiff with a witch who was jealous because Portia the familiar chose their friend instead of him plus he had his guts churned by an angel and spat up blood before and it's not the most pleasant thing in the world. He had worse and that was not counting those 'years' in the cage.

Sam stared out the window on his side of the Impala on the ride back home to Lebanon. It was just one cough but even he knew that in his line of work it could mean serious business in terms of overall general health. He was fine though. It was just a cough and it was only a little bit of blood. There was nothing to worry about right? Besides there were more important things to worry about like getting the last two tests done and permanently shutting the gates of Hell and then he could go back to creating a life with his brother and woman he loved. It was the light at the end of the tunnel.

It really didn't work out the way Dean planned but the first test was completed and Sam recited the spell and now it was on to finish it. He could do it. He knew he could and it came like a booster shot or something when Dean got on board with him doing it. That meant a lot even though they had each other's backs through all the crap they had gone through. As for her, she stood by him all the way even when he did some really stupid shit and he was grateful for it. He really was but now it was his turn to return the favor.

Sam knew he had to do right by her. It wasn't like a favor for a favor crap. She was his world and at the moment she was suffering even though she didn't say much about it. She never would, preferring to suffer in silence while caring for others. It was one of her more endearing qualities that he had admired from day one; at least in terms of her generosity with herself and her money. She never failed to listen when he had a problem. Now it was her turn and he was just getting her to understand it, plus she asked for help.

It was no secret between them that something was not right with her. He noticed it when Garth helped them out on that specter case and there were a few times when things were not as they should. It was after helping Charlie out that she admitted there was a problem. She couldn't explain it and he didn't want her to try but he had hit the books to try and figure it out himself. He even asked Garth for some help and had to endure the wheezing and the look of an asthma attack when the shit hit the fan. It was by sheer lucky guesswork that he figured out how to stave off the worst of it and dreaded the day that it would fail to work. So this test thing was nothing next to that.

Lebanon was pretty much a semi-permanent residence. Dean had his own room and while silly to most people, Sam understood the importance of it. Hell he had his own too and in Dean's dirty mindset it was with benefits. Technically it was hers courtesy of the Men of Letters… no surprise there… but he had his space there and it felt like home. It was another part of that light at the end of the tunnel that he could see.

"So the Nanny and the Licentious One have returned."

Sam felt his lip twitch. There was one person he wasn't too glad to see but he was grateful to have him around. The librarian… well _former_ librarian of the Men of Letters from 1945ish was brilliant in that he knew most things that even the Men of Letters didn't know. He was keen with observation and he annoyed Dean to no end with the countless digs at his libido. He was also manic depressive at times and it had Sam worried for her but she didn't mind at all and enjoyed teasing him about his name.

Sam had never met anyone like Sherlock Holtz before and actually thought that it was a joke at his expense since one of his chief passions was reading Sherlock Holmes as a kid. The librarian that took up residence in the library of their home was just like the character and was always experimenting and once or twice those experiments panned out on a case. Sam didn't like being called Nanny even after he looked up the meaning behind it and discovered that it was actually true. He bore with it though since he actually approached the librarian and asked for help.

"So what have you come to bother me with today?"

Sam studied the librarian as he was writing what appeared to be a formula on a chalkboard. It was old school but Sam wasn't arguing. The man figured out hacking within a day once the techno age boomed. He replied, "Just wondering if you found anything?"

"You mean the problem that appears unsolvable," Sherlock countered as he wrote on his board.

Sam didn't like the choice of words but he was too tired to quibble over it. He replied, "Yes. Did you find anything about…?"

"Purgatory? The hell for the beasts that die?" The clipped sentences came out like the inquisition was reborn.

"Yes," Sam replied. He gave a cough and put his fist to his mouth. It was just a tickle and nothing more. It was no big deal.

"Nothing as of yet," Sherlock replied. "Much of my research is limited. Now if I had someone who made it back actually in on this…"

"Not possible," Sam replied. "I don't want her to worry about it."

"Seems to me that's the last thing on her mind. You're going to tell her?"

Sam choked back a cough. "Tell her what?"

"Don't be stupid Nanny. Keep something serious from her will make it worse. Besides she may be in a better position to help. Rekindling abilities that are as natural as breathing may help." Sherlock emphasized the waving of his arms as he looked at Sam. His expression was somber. "Sometimes just a little bit is all that is needed to keep the larger thing at bay." He then turned and went back to his work.

Sam sighed. Conversations with Sherlock were always like this but every little bit helped. He didn't like that Sherlock implied something was up with his cough. It was just a cough and nothing more. It was no big deal. He coughed again trying to keep it from echoing in the place. It was inevitable that she would be waiting in their room.

"How do you feel?"

Sam looked at her. His eyes went to her hip and noticed she was favoring it again. "I'm good. You okay?"

The silence was unnerving but Sam was used to it… well sort of. He prompted, "Angie?"

Angela stood there, her expression bland. She crossed her arms over her chest. She looked like a parent waiting for the child in trouble to admit that they were in trouble.

Sam knew that right off and said, "I'm fine. It's nothing."

"It's not 'nothing'," she replied and she used air quotes. "I'm not blind. I can see… and smell." She turned away to pour something on the table she was standing next to.

Sam should have known. She had always been sensitive to the scent of blood and no doubt she saw a lot since she didn't say much. That was her thing now and a nagging voice told him that was what the manic depressive librarian wanted in the first place but that was nothing compared to the flicker of hurt mingled with annoyance… a first in a long time. "I know," he said in a low voice. He rubbed his right arm. "I just…"

He had forgotten how fast she could move and almost jumped when she appeared in front of him. She held out one of those paper thin china cups filled with tea. She said, "It's not nothing, Sam."

Sam knew better than to argue and took the cup. He held it while she took the opportunity to feel his head. He watched her face frown in concentration. He honestly thought nothing was wrong except for his arm on occasion and he was probably coming down with a bug.

"You're warm."

"I'm fine." Sam was serious in that it was nothing for her to worry about. He hoped that she got that hint from the way that he was saying it.

Angela just looked at him and ignored him. "The trials will do that to you," she replied with a slight shake of her head. "Drink that. It will help. It helped me."

Sam eyed her with a peculiar expression. He had given the stuff to her because of her hellhound injury. The slash had been deep and to the bone on her hip. She had a slight fever even though she had been shivering. How could that tea stuff help?

"The hellhound… it was not just a trial for you. It was for me," his answer came. "Soreness, aches, fever, chills… like a bad flu bug but part of the whole refining thing the apostles eulogize."

It dawned on Sam that the animated argument that she had with Dean was about the whole trials in general. Dean had questioned her knowledge of it and accused her of thinking he was stupid. Bad move on his part. In the end it was clear, she knew about the trials. "How…?"

"How do you think I became Absolution? Remember when I said that I must have been a dumb teenager for accepting it?"

That made sense to Sam. She would know but why one now. "Why then did you go through one? You didn't kill the hellhound."

"I suffered one's wrath," Angela replied. "For what purpose, I don't know. I don't even think it has anything to do with closing the gates of hell." She turned to look at Sam. "The trials aren't nothing but everything. I will say that it is a long and ugly road but even I don't have all the answers. For me, it probably has something to do with something else and it blindsided me. Lucky this time Sherlock knew what was happening and gave you that. It slows things down. Maybe it's cheating but it just relieves symptoms. The cure is to finish."

It was the most Sam had ever heard her say in one sitting since she came back. It occurred to him that she had probably saved this speech for whoever succeeded in the first task or an explanation if she succeeded. He gave a cough and put his hand to his mouth. A little bit of blood showed again. He knew that she had seen it and it really was nothing. He looked up to see a look of understanding coming from her and he gulped down the tea.

Dean trusted him that he was okay but Sam knew that things weren't. He had been kidding himself because in his mind, she was more important. Dean couldn't see it which was why his research was on the sly and he approached Sherlock. It may have been a little drop of blood and a cough but combined with the occasional ache in his right arm, he knew that it was a big deal. He could still handle it though.

Sam felt a pair of arms snake around his torso. He reacted by pulling her close and resting his head on hers. He heard her whisper and gave a sad smile. He didn't want this but he knew that she wouldn't let it go and there was no way to do so since she was probably on her own quest or maybe had a part to play in this one. To him it didn't seem fair for her since she had given way more than what was asked of her.

"It's nothing," she said in a soft whisper.

Sam held her, feeling better that he wasn't coughing any more. He couldn't help but give a slight smile but it sobered as he replied just as soft, "And everything."

* * *

**A/N:** Just a snippet after that last scene where we see Sam cough up a bit of blood. Some Sam/Angie fluff and an old character reintroduced. Enjoy.


End file.
